


I find you marked in constellation

by remyllian_fire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Alternate Universe - X-Men, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 16:31:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7809067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remyllian_fire/pseuds/remyllian_fire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Stiles suddenly growing in power and simultaneously becoming more distant, Derek feels helpless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I find you marked in constellation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [apackofsmokes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apackofsmokes/gifts).



> An incredibly late birthday gift for Lars. I'm sorry! This isn't the x-men au of our dreams, but it is an x-men au. <3
> 
> (Title is straight from Bon Iver's new song "22")

"I've never seen you use so much power so casually."

Stiles doesn't look at Derek, doesn't respond right away, but he shrugs. He returns his fingertips to his temple, which Derek has always considered to be a signal to leave him alone rather than a gesture that actually helps him concentrate. Though he could be wrong about that, for all he's been wrong about Stiles lately. He waits silently until Stiles drops his hands, rolling his shoulders as he turns to Derek.

"Admit it, you like seeing me like this."

There's a grin, friendly and open and familiar. It eases Derek's concerns, and he enjoys Stiles' warmth when he wraps his hands around Derek's waist.

"Did I say otherwise?" Derek settles his hands over Stiles'. "I love watching my boyfriend at work."

Stiles pokes him in the side with a finger, teasing but gentle.

"All I'm reading in there are people who want to dance and have fun. Maybe we should, too."

"Or maybe we should do what Scott sent us to do," Derek counters, but he still pulls Stiles closer.

"Scotty would have us checking up on local mutants all week if he had it his way, even if they're happily living their lives in solitude. When does that leave us time for dancing?"

"He just wants us to meet them. See if they're safe, if they want a place to belong."

"All right," Stiles says as he backs away, leaving Derek aching with the absence. It's been so long since they were disconnected so fully in both mind and body, and Derek hates that it's now common between them again. "Let's go. But after we've fulfilled our duty, you and I are going to dance."

Stiles raises his eyebrows, like that will make his request into law. Derek ducks in to kiss the look off his face.

"Whatever makes you happy."

Stiles grabs one of Derek's hands to trace the knuckles with his thumb in a familiar gesture. A reminder, an oath.

"You make me happy."

"Sap."

"Better than jaded. Now let's go."

\-----

It's a mess inside. An easy, enjoyable one, but still a mess.

The thrum of music pounding around them is a pleasant distraction from the typical silent pressure of their life, an odd sense of normalcy they rarely have. It's chaos, but for once, it's not a chaos intertwined with strife. Stiles looks at him, pleading silently.

 _Please. Dancing will help me de-stress so I can focus on the new kid after. Please?_ Stiles pushes the thought into Derek's mind like a whisper, sweet and irresistible. Stiles has never been able to manipulate thoughts, but it always feels like he can, for how much Derek gives in to anything he wants every time. He reluctantly nods at Stiles, who beckons him to follow.

They're separated almost immediately. He sees Stiles from afar, and they hold eye contact as Stiles slides against strangers. It's a display only for Derek, who rolls his eyes at the smirk thrown his way. He looks around, thoughts already back on finding the kid Scott sent them to meet, wondering if they'll care more than the last they encountered.

 _We should get to work,_ he projects to Stiles after a while. Enough time has passed that Stiles should be ready.

There's no response, and he turns back to where he last saw Stiles. His heart sinks. Stiles is still there, but he's no longer dancing around, carefree. He's wrapped in arms that aren't Derek's. His mouth is on lips that aren't Derek's. He doesn't remember the intent to move, but his feet carry him close to Stiles.

"Stiles?" he whispers, uncertain.

There's a flash and a string of seconds that stretch out like eternity, during which Stiles pulls away and looks at Derek, his face contorted with shock and confusion.

"Derek," he says, slowly, like his name is a new sound in his mouth.

They gape at each other, silent, before Derek has to look away. The stranger is gone, nothing but the weight of his actions remaining.

"Please believe me, I don't know what just happened."

He's still stunned. His heart is in his throat, ready to claw its way out and fall at Stiles' feet. Probably only to be crushed, so Derek swallows hard, eyes fluttering shut for a fraction of a second as he steels himself.

"Let's just do what we came here to do."

"Derek, please. He's not... I had a vision, I think. Of another life."

It doesn't make sense, but sense likely wouldn't help anyway. He can't hear it, not now, not when he needs to try to clear his head. He clenches his jaw to keep from shaking.

"I don't know who that was-"

"Neither do I!" Stiles interrupts. He always interrupts. His entire being interrupts Derek's, and he's always let that Stiles be that unstoppable force. "I would never-"

"No." Derek doesn't sway at Stiles' flinch, but it's a near thing. "We have other things, other people, to worry about."

He doesn't watch Stiles scan the crowd, barely listens as he points to one of the dancers on stage, and almost doesn't notice the shift in the air.

"Something's wrong," he says, suddenly.

"You might be able to, but I can't hide that I'm upset, Derek."

"Not that. There's just...something in the air."

Stiles doesn't throw him off when Derek's grips his forearm. It doesn't take long for the atmosphere to change entirely.

The hum of music and happiness and disordered entertainment dissipates and is replaced by real, dangerous chaos. There are armed people in the crowd suddenly, and in what feels like only a blink of an eye, they're overwhelmed.

Derek doesn't know who he's even fighting, and Stiles has disappeared. They can always find each other in a fight, like magnets of violence, but he's nowhere. Panic rises in his throat, but he pushes past it. He tries to focus, tries to heed Scott's request earlier of "Hey Derek? Keep it peaceful. Can you keep the claws retracted for a night? It scares people." But fright is seeping through the entire club anyway, and it isn't Derek's fault. He throws out a quick mental "sorry not sorry" that Scott can't hear from this distance.

Derek's brutal. More than he ought to be. He hears the crack of bones, the sound of bullets and fists striking hard, even the sound of his flesh stitching itself together again over every new wound.

But nothing drowns out the absence of Stiles' voice. They always shout at each other, no matter the fight, but here, there's... nothing. Even when he catches sight of Stiles again, while they share the briefest of eye contact, there's still silence between them.

He's distracted by Stiles too long, and narrowly avoids a painful blow only as he's pulled across the room by a helping telekinetic hand. Derek glances back at Stiles. Unfazed. Positively glowing with power and energy as he brings the last of their opponents to their knees. A casual wave of his hand, and they stumble over, unconscious.

There's a glow to him that isn't right, yet somehow is utterly fitting. Stiles finally looks straight at Derek, a victorious smile on his face. For the first time, Derek's afraid of him.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what happened. I've been sick for a week and most of this was written during that time, so this is late, short, AND not what I intended to write. But Stiles is Dark Phoenix! Derek is Wolverine!


End file.
